The Glass Doll
by Sorrow
Summary: slight H/R... a look into Relana's Misery. //That artist truly saw her real self. He saw the me that everybody else saw, and the other me. The secret me. A happy woman that's caught in her own misery. Two people, two faces, not one.//


...I don't own any character in the actual story. yeah yeah...  
BUT! I DO OWN 2! (Christian and the docta!)

**~*The Glass Doll*~**

Soft, white, feathery fingers left their mark on the spines of the many books that covered the massive shelves along the pale wall. Occasionally, she would stop and grip a book with her silky hands, and look at the fine print along the fabric and leather spines. Seeing nothing of interest to her, she continued walking once again across the hardwood floor. Her large dress swooshed between her legs, and her left arm gripped at the sash that tied around her chest. Her elegance and calmness told a silent tale of blood that was bred of high quality and sophistication. But on the inside, her soul screamed for release of its gilded cage.

It was now the sixth year anniversary of the end of the Great War, and a party was taking place in the ballroom downstairs. The buzz of laughter echoed along each individual silent hallway as well as the rattling of china, the clanking and breaking of Champaign glasses, and the constant noise of chatter. She knew someone would come looking for her soon. They would want an explanation for the incident that had occurred just minutes ago. And she also knew, that she was just delaying the inevitable. But for now, she would have her peace and quiet, and quality time with herself. She could finally let herself relax, even if it was just for a few simple moments. A small smile graced her elegant features as she spotted a certain book she wanted. She stood on her toes and tried to pull the book out. Her fingers gripped at the cool leather, and she tugged at it. Seeing that it only nudged a bit, she let out a groan of frustration, and leapt up in her attempt to recover her book. Success. She carefully held the book to her chest. Letting its coolness clash against the hot flesh of her skin. She closed her eyes in content and let out a sigh. Carefully, she walked over to the chair that stood at her large windows. It seemed out of place against the massive rows of glass, but she didn't care. It served its purpose fully, and that's all that mattered. Carefully, she sat down in the old wood chair, letting her skirt cascade around her. Finally, she opened her eyes to the scenery below her and her face reflected what she saw. Beauty. The gardens were below her, and the maze behind the rows of flowers. And far off in the distance, the city was seen. As her smirk dropped, she looked down at the book that lay in her lap. "The Complete Works of Edgar Allen Poe."

She opened the old book carefully, brushing her hands along the old yellow, worn sheets of paper. Gripping at the silk that marked a page, she tugged at it, and let the pages fall away. In big black cursive letters, the words, "The Raven" appeared before her. She suddenly remembered the time when her father read her this same passage night after night. She would sit on the floor, beside the fire, and look up to him in his chair. His spectacles high up on the bridge of his nose, the book in his right hand, and his left hand wavering about in the air as he read. Unconsciously, she brought her hand up to her nose as she remembered him leaning down and poking her child form in that same very spot that she now touched. As he did this gesture, she could remember his deep rusty voice echoing one word, "nevermore." She then smiled as she remembered the giggle she gave out as a little girl when he did this. Jarring herself from her childhood memories, she looked down at the words and spoke them softly, imagining that her father was reading to her once again, but through her own lips.

"Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,  
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,  
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,  
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.  
''Tis some visitor,' I muttered, 'tapping at my chamber door-  
Only this, and nothing more.'" 

At the imposing sound of footsteps along the hallway, the girl suddenly stopped and looked up towards her door, holding her breath, praying to god to have a few more moments to herself. When she heard the footsteps become more silent, she let out a sigh and continued reading. 

"Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,  
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.  
Eagerly I wished the morrow;- vainly I had sought to borrow  
From my books surcease of sorrow- sorrow for the lost Lenore-  
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore-  
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain  
Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;  
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,  
'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door-  
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;-  
This it is, and nothing more.'"

Suddenly, the foot steps she had heard just a moment ago, returned, and they grew louder with each fleeting second. That is until they all stopped at once. A knock was heard echoing through the halls, and then somebody called out her name. When there was no answer, the footsteps started again, and stopped at another door. Repeating each movement that was just made. She gazed at the heavy oak door, and decided to soak up her remaining moments.

"Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,  
'Sir,' said I, 'or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;  
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,  
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,  
That I scarce was sure I heard you'- here I opened wide the door;-  
Darkness there, and nothing more. 

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering,   
fearing,  
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;  
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,  
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, 'Lenore!'  
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, 'Lenore!'-  
Merely this, and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,  
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.  
'Surely,' said I, 'surely that is something at my window lattice:  
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore-  
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;-  
'Tis the wind and nothing more.'" 

With each tap and each call that she heard, she realized that whomever was looking for her, seemed to be persistent, and wouldn't stop until he or she found her. She could hear her name being called over and over again. She found it very irritating, that so many people watched her, and contained her. Commenting on how she should act or behave. And if she doesn't behave, the brother comes in to put her in line. 'Young Mistress!' the say. 'Young Mistress, your brother seeks a word with you!' Constantly she asks what is the matter, 'What have I done, and what can I do to improve myself for you.' And the same thing is always picked up. 'You must be who they want you to be. You must not step out of line. You must preach what you started preaching at the beginning.' He tells her. And she always tells him that what she preaches is not who she is. And the final word is always. 'But that is who they think you are, and want you to be.' 

"Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and  
flutter,  
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;  
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed  
he;  
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door-  
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door-  
Perched, and sat, and nothing more. 

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,  
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.  
'Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, 'art sure no  
craven,  
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore-  
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'  
Quoth the Raven, 'Nevermore.'" 

The same conversation plays through her mind constantly. If her pacific mask slips even for a second, a moments worth, that 'Talk' is what she receives. That is what she is hiding from tonight. While at the ball, she gave a speech on how wonderful it was to finally have peace for such a long time. How wonderful it was, to have people such as themselves right in the very room. How much they did for the world, and how pacifism ended the war. Right in the middle of her speech, she stopped, looked up, and proclaimed 'No wait, this isn't right. 'It's not wonderful. We did not achieve this peace through pacifism. Do you not all remember the actual fighting of the war? You people didn't help in the war, those people did. Those people out there were fighting while you people buzz about throwing parties and living in your own little world.' The moment those words escaped her, a hand reached up and touched her mouth. Her mask had slipped. And for the first time, she realized she was two people. One, a rich aristocratic pacifist, and the other, a woman who's been denied her thoughts and ambitions. A woman who was made to be somebody else. The endless chatter of the room echoed about her after her startling words. And the stress and humiliation got to much for her, so she fled. Her jaw clenched as she remembered that moment, but she continued to read from her father's book.

"Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,  
Though its answer little meaning- little relevancy bore;  
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being  
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door-  
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,  
With such name as 'Nevermore.' 

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only  
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.  
Nothing further then he uttered- not a feather then he fluttered-  
Till I scarcely more than muttered, 'other friends have flown  
before-  
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'  
Then the bird said, 'Nevermore.'"

She glanced up again at the sound of a tapping upon the door beside her own. She then looked back down at the book in front of her, and began to read faster. Desperate to finish the passage.

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,  
'Doubtless,' said I, 'what it utters is its only stock and store,  
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster  
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore-  
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore  
Of 'Never- nevermore'.' 

But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,  
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and  
door;  
Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking  
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore-  
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore  
Meant in croaking 'Nevermore.'

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing  
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;  
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining  
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,  
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er,  
She shall press, ah, nevermore! 

Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer  
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.  
'Wretch,' I cried, 'thy God hath lent thee- by these angels he  
hath sent thee  
Respite- respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore!  
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!'  
Quoth the Raven, 'Nevermore.'"

She stopped once more as she looked up to the door. The knocking was at hers now. She clutched her eyes shut then went straight back to her book. //Just a few more minutes Please....just a few more minutes...// she whispered in her mind. She opened her eyes then read once more.

"'Prophet!' said I, 'thing of evil!- prophet still, if bird or  
devil!-  
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,  
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted-  
On this home by horror haunted- tell me truly, I implore-  
Is there- is there balm in Gilead?- tell me- tell me, I implore!'  
Quoth the Raven, 'Nevermore.' 

'Prophet!' said I, 'thing of evil- prophet still, if bird or  
devil!  
By that Heaven that bends above us- by that God we both adore-  
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,  
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore-  
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.'  
Quoth the Raven, 'Nevermore.'"

She let out a heavy sigh as she heard the banging on the door grow louder. The figure behind the door, knows she's in there.

"Relena! Relena! Open up!"

Ignoring the person, she looked back down at the book in front of her, and tried to finish and absorb what little privacy was left at the moment. She spoke.

"'Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend,' I shrieked,  
upstarting-  
'Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!  
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!  
Leave my loneliness unbroken!- quit the bust above my door!  
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my  
door!'  
Quoth the Raven, 'Nevermore.'"

The door's handle rattled and opened. She did not tear her eyes away from the book to look at her intruder. No, of course not. She already knew who it was. 

He opened his mouth to speak to her, but before he could even say anything, she lifted her hand up to him, silencing whatever he had to say. He had to admit, the sight of her was absolutely breath taking. She sat alone in her own bedroom with the lights off. The light from the window, blew onto her form, casting a glow about her body. He noticed how she had her hair curled in ringlets. For the most part, her hair was down, but a light clip pulled the sides of her hair up and away from her face, letting two spirals of hair curl in front of her. The clip had five pearls on each side and seemed to match her perfectly along with the small tiara on her for head, with a dangling pearl that almost reached in between her eyebrow. He noticed the Deep red gown with the golden trim that she wore. It seemed almost medieval like. And instead of gloves, two dainty bracelets laid across her wrists. She looked like a princess. He watched her as she stood up with the book still in hand, and began to read louder. The last passage.

"And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting  
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;  
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,  
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the  
floor;  
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor  
Shall be lifted- nevermore!" 

Just as she said the last line, she snapped the book shut and looked up at the person who stood before her. She walked towards him, but first, sat the book down onto her blood red velvet sheets. She clasped her hands in front of her, and walked gracefully towards him. 

"Yes Christian?" she asked him, peering up into his watery eyes. Ahh yes, Christian, her long time friend of four years. He was also born into nobility, but unlike her, he cherished it, as one would cherish a pet, or a possession. And she loathed it with every fiber of her being.

"You're brother wants to speak with you Relena." he said quietly, afraid to disrupt the silence of the room.

"Yes." she said. "I suppose he would." She then let out another sigh and gave him a smile. "Lead the way Cap'n" Christian smiled at her joke, but the look in her eyes lacked all humor. Her heart just wasn't in it. He knew her soul was torn in two, and that nothing could help her. He also knew, from being around her almost constantly for four years, that she had something similar to a split personality, and he realized, that now, she had discovered her own secret. Nobody could know this of course. What would people think? Their beloved dove insane? No certainly not, he would simply do what other people did who knew her. He would keep quiet, and for now, life will go on the same way for the world. No interruptions, no disturbances, everything the same. He lead her down the Grand stair case into the loud crowd. People moved out of the way at the sight of her presence, and occasionally, would stare at her as if she were a painting, or a doll. Christian led her through the crowd and to a table, where her elder brother sat, with his wife. Once she was there, Christian bowed in respect, kissed Relena's hand, and left to mingle with other guests.

"You wished to see me?" she asked him with her head bowed below her.

"Yes...I did." she looked up at him, and he made a gesture with his hand, telling her to sit. And she obeyed. No matter how much she wanted to scream, yell, kick, and disobey him, it wasn't her place to do so. It wasn't the way a lady of class should behave, so she sat, and placed her hands on her lap. 

"Relena-" 

"Yes I know Milliardo, and I apologize. I shouldn't have slipped. I have an image, and the people look up to that image for guidance and support. I will catch my tongue from now on, and I promise you, my mask will no longer fall.." Her cool gaze let him realize, she was speaking the truth, but his heart always broke. He knew that she could never be the person she is. She must live the life that was thrown at her, for the sake of everybody else. That is why he must constantly remind her of it. He must be strong for her, and keep her strong, and in line. He reached over, and grasped her hand, which he pressed firmly between both of his, and gazed at it. 

"You have mother's hands you know." he stated simply. She glanced down at her long thin fingers, and looked back up to her brother. 

"Yes, you have told me this many times." she responded simply. Her voice held no joy, and no sadness. It was in a medium, a joining of both, and yet, neither of them. 

It was time for him to play the hard brother again. Milliardo sighed and gave her a piercing look. "You were lucky the press wasn't here tonight." She blinked and pulled her hand out of her brother's grasp, and folded it within her own once again. Milliardo leaned back in his chair and continued. "And you were lucky I could explain this off as someone mingling with your note cards." he smirked, "It's amazing what the rich will believe for the sake of their own sanity." Relena smirked slightly. 

"Yes, certainly is amazing." She took a deep breath and looked at the grand stair case. 

"May I go back to my room now? I am not feeling well at the moment." 

"Yes of course." Milliardo said with a wave of his hand, and so she got up, and walked through the ballroom and up the stairs, towards the safety of her own room. Once she placed her hand on the cool metal of the door, she pushed it open and peered at the elegance of the room. She placed both feet within her walls, turned around, and gently closed the door, and let it click silently. With a heavy sigh, she leaned her back against the door and looked up, blinking back the tears that were ready to form. What her brother said continued to circulate throughout her mind. //...Its amazing what the rich will do for the sake of their own sanity...It's amazing what the rich will do for the sake of their own sanity...// Her mind swirled with those words. She pushed herself off of the door, and walked over to her bed, sitting on the soft red fabric. Her hand brushed past the book that she had laid down earlier. Her index finger traced the writing on the front cover, as she cocked her head to the side, and lifted her other hand up, pulled the tiara from her head, through it on her pillow, and took out the clip that withheld her hair in its prison. 

"What about my sanity though?" she asked quietly to no body in particular as she remembered the time when she saught help of a psychiatrist not to long ago. She needed a way to deal with her stress, and thought that a psychiatrist would help. But what she wanted, and what she received, were two completely different things. She remembered one session in particular... 

_*Flashback*_

_"Ok Ms. Darlian, today, instead of focising on your stress. We are going to focis on what gives you tranquility in your life."_

_"Alright." she responded as she crossed her leg over the other, and placed her hands on her knees. She had just gotten out of a meeting, and still had her cream colored suit on. "So" she started again. "What would you like to know?"_

_"Ms. Darlian" said the man in his French accent as he took off his glasses and leaned on his desk. "What makes you happy? What do you do, to make yourself comfortable. What do you do to relax? Besides taking a warm bath." he said with a laugh. Apparently, every female patient that he had, always responded 'a hot bubble bath' when asked what helps them relax. Immediately, he would say no, and ask them again. This time, adding 'relax mentally.'_

_"Well... When I have time to myself, I lock myself in my room, and pull out a book."_

_"And what book is that?" he asked as he leaned back in his chair once again while writing in his observation book._

_"The Complete Works of Edgar Allen Poe."_

_"And why, do you pull this particular book out, Ms. Darlian?"_

_"Well..." she said as she switched her position in the chair. "Because it's my favorite."_

_"And why is that?" His hard brown eyes gazed at her. Waiting for her to answer. His hands itched to write whatever it was she would say down._

_"I suppose..." she began as she sighed. "Because my step father, Mr. Dorlian would read me his favorite poem every night. Which eventually became my favorite poem."_

_"And is this the only thing you read from that book?"_

_"Yes it is..." His eyes peered up at her in interest._

_"And how many times, would you say, that you have read that poem this month?"_

_"I'm not sure..." she said as she fidgeted with her scarf in her hand. He noticed this and peered at her intently._

_"Then how many times this week? As of today, Wednesday, from Sunday." he asked as he tapped his pen across his chin. She sighed yet again, but this time, her sigh was more of a defeated one. She looked down and mumbled a barley incoherent '12' and the psychiatrist's eyes widened in surprise, and wrote down what she said._

_"What does this have to do with anything?" she asked him as she looked back up._

_"Ms. Darlian." he started as he sat his book and pen down. "The reason why this book brings you comfort and relaxation is because it was from your old life. A life that you lived long ago, before the war happend, and before you held your title. I think it's possible, that a part of you wants to go back to that, even though you cant. So, you bring your past with you, and live with it along side your present."_

_"Is...that a bad thing?"_

_"Ms. Darlian, if you do not let go of your past, both beings of yourself, past and present, will haunt you. You must let go and become who everybody sees you as!"_

_*End Flashback*_

Relena sighed at the memory. That was the first time she realized that what the world saw her as, and what she thought she was, were two different people. She smiled at the irony of it all and she let her blue eyes dance around her room. Her four post-er bed was on the left side of the room when you walked in. The door to the bathroom, was right across from it, but more so towards the right. When you first walk in, there are seven large windows across from the main door. There was one empty space on each far end of the windows. The windows themselves though, were not completely next to each other, but instead, were in groups. There were three four to ceiling windows, then one by itself, then three floor to ceiling windows once more. Next to her bed, were two table stands, one on each side. The stand on the right, contained her clock, a picture of her family, a picture of Christian and his daughter, and another picture of the Gundam pilots at the first party to celebrate the end of the Great War. On the other stand, there was an elegant lamp. Its gold looked like it was twisted to meet the light bulb, and cloth lining. On the left side of the bed, just passed the stand, there was a large space, and then an elegant China case that sat in the corner. Instead of china though, she kept all of her most cherished possessions. The bear Heero Yuy gave her six years ago, was one of those possessions, safely locked away on the top shelf behind the glass. Above the floor to ceiling windows, there was a large bar, that held the curtains. Currently, they were wide open, letting the light into her room. On the right wall, across from the china set, was the closet, with its hard wood sliding doors, that opened to reveal many suits and dresses. Between the closet and the bathroom door, was a vanity. And on the right hand side of the bathroom door, there were the many book cases, each aligning towards the corner where one book shelf stood by itself at its own angle, then two more book shelves heading towards the door. After the book shelves, there was a plant, and then a small, low to floor table, that held an open book, full of quotes that she put in through the years- since she was 15- and glass china dolls. 

The dolls themselves, were scattered all over the room. On top of the mirror on the vanity, on top of the china glass case, and on top of the book shelves. Each doll had its own facial features painted onto ceramic glass, even though, they all had blonde hair, and blue eyes. Each doll, was a hand crafted replica of herself. They were all gifts to her from each artist she had ever encountered. Starting from when she was 18, through now. Three years later. Sometime before that time, the press dug into her past, and saw that she had a love for antique ceramic dolls, and ever since then, each gift she received was a doll. Relena stood up, and walked over to her vanity, to one doll in particular that sat next to her brush. She picked it up, and played with it's short blond tresses, then looked at it's face. She peered at it through her blue eyes, looking at it in interest. She had always thought this one interesting, and stood out from all the others. She began to play with it's dress as she caressed it's face with her eyes. It mimicked somehow Trowa's mask. Half of it one thing, and half of it the other. The right side of the face, was stony, and serious, but elegant and calm. And the other half, was smiling, and yet, it's eye was sad, and had a tear forming at the base of the lid. That artist truly saw her real self. He saw the me that everybody else saw, and the other me. The secret me. A happy woman that's caught in her own misery. Two people, two faces, not one. She lifted her eyes from the doll and gazed at herself in the mirror. There was no doubt about it, she was defanitly beautiful. She looked at herself as she let her mask fall away. She saw her tiredness and the war the brew in her eyes. Her hands fell to her side, as she still held onto the doll tightly. She looked at herself for a few more minutes, and suddenly, something clicked within her. She hated everything, she hated herself.. and she opened her hand, and let the doll fall from her grasp, and shatter, as it hit the floor. It's head was in pieces...the face withheld the least damage, but the fact remains, that a large crack was through it, separating each half. Without even looking at her favorite doll that was now ruined, she slammed her hand into the mirror, and went on a rampage, destroying each doll she saw around her. She destroyed each version of herself. 

...And a lonely figure, watched her misery from the window, as he pressed his hand to the cold glass. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

GOD!!!!!!! I LOVE THIS STORY! OK NOW I REMEMBER I SAID THAT FROZEN WAS MY BEST FIC. BUT GOD! THIS ONE TAKES THE CAKE! AHAH I'M SO PROUD OF MYSELF!. REVIEW PEOPLE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


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